


Time by Dimension: Shattersong

by slowmobanana



Series: Time by Dimension [2]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Action/Adventure, Characters in Order of Appearance (not by Importance), Characters might be rearranged by Importance as Chapters are added, Fantasy, Gen, Gonna try to get as many Champs into this as possible, Strong Language, characters to be added as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-01-06 09:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12208458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowmobanana/pseuds/slowmobanana
Summary: A prequel of Time By Dimension.&&&There has been foretold an Armageddon of unimaginable destruction. Gods, Ascended, Voidwalkers, Darkin, and mortals alike face extinction from a force no one can identify.Being the first to know the threat and act upon it, Ekko and Zoe must travel across Runeterra and locate the Legends of the world in order to quell the evils that rest within the planet and singlehandedly change the course of their reality --- before all is lost.&&&A familiar song sung by an unfamiliar device sends Ekko on a long and perilous journey to prevent Runeterra's soon-to-be apocalypse. It's unfortunate that the one man capable of helping him refuses to change the future and his only clue is the Z-Drive itself. With time both with and against him, Ekko must travel to places he's barely heard of, meet people he's never imagined existed, discover the heartbreaking truth of the crystal within his Z-Drive, and take part in a war that was never his to fight.The war against fate has been waged at last, and the future has never been so bleak.





	1. A Song in the Silence; the Landlord's Son

**Author's Note:**

> OH BOY, this is my first Leagues fanfic, so let's see how this goes. I wanted to write something, because I haven't had a project like this in so long. I just hope I'm able to finish it one day. Some stuff might be canon divergent because I cannot keep track of all this LORE, and not all champs will make it into the story, but those I feel who might be most involved may appear. Or, a lot of them may just play minor roles. Who knows.  
> I also wanna note that I'm writing in a new style I have never written before, so bear with me if it's weird. (Since this is my first Leagues fic, you are probably unfamiliar with my style, which is understandable, so don't bother with attempted comparisons.) BUT, if you do have any suggestions or criticisms, feel free to leave it in the comments below!  
> Anyways, have the first chapter for now. Hope you like it.  
> On with the story!  
> UPDATE: Please note that this fic has been moved to the Time by Dimension series as a prequel. It's kinda of a mess at the moment, so bear with me as I try to make it all work together.)

A Song in the Silence

It sang first at midnight.

It had been no abnormal day; waking to the bleak silence of an empty home and leaving to find some sound to fill the blank spaces of his mind. Running along the cobblestone, building things under the Bridgewaltz, exchange comments and jokes and grand visions with other kids who also walked the path of invention.

He'd sprint in the shadowed alleys and weave with the mist between everything. Colourful people with broken tooth grins and rogue-ish children with scraped knees and elbows danced around the city in the beat to their own unique drum. (Some more far fetched than others, but those wide-eyed, star-reaching, far-speaking bastards were Ekko's favourite people.)

The city of hot iron and coloured glass, the world Ekko had learned to more than just survive in, but thrive and live and think as grand as the clear skies and as thick and complex as the Grey and it's lethal chemicals within, the only way he'd ever spend his day; freer than air, ruled only by whim and invention and imagination.

He came home shortly following the darkening of the sky, covered the Z-Drive in a thick black blanket, and decided that, tonight, he would lay in his bed and think out some problems in a project he'd started a few days prior. He would lay there until he uncovered a solution, try to memorise it for the morning, and repeat the process until his parents returned home.

But tonight, somehow in someway, something that had never happened before happened.

Midnight was marked by the tolling of a Piltie-built grandfather clock owned by one of the neighbours and, almost in perfect stride of the first strike, the first notes of the nameday song twinkled through the apartment the same way a star twinkled in the sky. Ekko rolled over, eyebrows furrowed in the sleepiest kind of confusion. Beneath the black cloth, the Z-Drive was bright and stabbed electric blue through the thin holes of cotton threads and Ekko, in all of his tired wisdom, lifted the cloth to be blinded by the great and warm light pulsing from the shattered crystals within it's container.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, squinting against the light and dropping the blanket. He shook his head, shut his eyes, blinked a few times, and then sat up. This time, braced better for the light, pulled off the black and light up the entire bedroom nook.

At first, the song seemed longer than he remembered before he realised the song was playing a seamless and perfect loop, over and over until an absolute minute after the first toll of midnight. Halfway through the tune, the light and the song faded into the Z-Drive's more natural state.

The silence came again, and Ekko was left in the dim blue light again, stilled by shock and half-concerned confusion. No problem or solution came to him initially, just variables and curiousities, such as if the Z-Drive would still rewind in that state or if it would be too busy singing to do the thing it was built for.

He took it apart and rebuilt it and did so twice until he heard the lockbolt turn and the door creak open gently. He panicked, covered the Drive, and greeted his parents as if not a thing was wrong.

...

The Landlord's Son

Ekko woke the next morning because he'd stabbed himself in the ribs with the screwdriver he fell asleep with in his hand when he tried to roll over in his sleep. “Ow.” The bed was littered with tiny metal pieces, spare screws and knobs that it was a mere miracle he didn't wake with his jaw locked.

He sighed and pulled himself up off the bed. He'd been sleeping on the blankets, but he was still hot and still dressed and he mumbled to himself about falling asleep in the middle of something again.

Then he remembered the song, and he remembered the light, and he looked to the far corner of his bed where the Z-Drive laid, as neutral as it always did. He decided to discard the idea to take it apart for a third time, snatched it out of the corner, and finally got out of bed.

The apartment was quiet and hot, absent of any living creature save for himself and whatever lived in the walls. It was dark, too, because he always kept the curtains drawn so no one would dare consider to break in, though he had set up inventions for such purpose. But this was his home and he loved it as much as any child loved the place they grew up in, even if his parents cursed the place quietly between each other when they thought he was asleep.

He stumbled into the kitchen, setting the Drive on the dining table as he passed it, and scavenged around for any food he could find in the cupboards. The pantry was bare, save the last quarter of a loaf of bread and a spread Ekko claimed he “bought” with some money he'd found or saved up (or something like that) that he never touched because he knew his dad really liked it.

There was a battle of consideration of taking a slice or saving it for his parents when they got home that night. Food was simple for him. Not as much for his law-abiding parents. He rubbed his eyes and his cheeks and had barely made a decision when an angry fist slammed three times against the front door. Ekko jumped, shut the pantry door quickly, and stole a step towards the door. No, he knew who it was, so he backtracked and activated the Drive instead, searching quickly for something to cover it with before realising it wasn't visible from the door and that he should answer it quickly.

(Thank God he'd slept in his clothes, or he'd be in a pinch to find the dial, too.)

The fist pounded again, and he opened it before the third strike and his landlord's son nearly punched him in the face. Ekko stepped backwards, the son retracted quickly, almost nearly ashamed but still too angry to apologize. “Where's your parents?” he snapped, though the tone was still awkward.

“Not here,” Ekko said, torn between sounding annoyed and sounding, well, not annoyed. (Polite?) “They're working.”

The man pursed his lips together and glared down at the boy. “Are they?”

(Are they? What do you mean, are they? Where else would they be?)

“Yes.”

“Oh. Then, do _you_ have the rent?”

Ekko faltered. “It's not even the third yet.”

“Don't care. We want it in advance.”

Shit. Did he? “Hold on a moment.” He pushed the door half-way closed and sauntered into the living room. He glanced back to make sure the landlord was still waiting outside the door, then ducked back behind his father's chair to pull out a small chest of varying coloured coins. Quietly, he counted them, totaling out to three quarters of what was expected for rent. Then he remembered the lack of bread in the cupboard.

He took a deep breath.

He returned some of the coins back to the chest, the chest back behind the chair, and stood to return to the door. He opened it full ways again, trying to seem stoic against the man's gaze. Immediately, the landlord's eyes narrowed and Ekko was certain his expression gave away the truth, so he cut to the chase. “Can I give you half now, and half later?”

The man inhaled sharply, paused, then snapped, “No. _All_ of it, now.”

“I don't...” His voice trailed off for a second, then he cleared his throat and tried again. “I don't have all of it right now. But I have half of it. I can get the rest of it--” All too suddenly, the man slammed a fist into the door and the knob made a large hole in the wall. Ekko flinched, processed the situation, and both of his fists balled. “Hey! What the hell!? That's _your—_ ”

“Are you fucking with me!?”

“What?”

The landlord stormed into the house, pushing the boy aside and grabbing the first thing he saw to throw around the apartment. Ekko scrambled to his feet and hesitated to stop the man as he raged around the apartment, flipping over chairs and tables and anything movable within arm's reach. Ekko clenched his jaw and turned the dial on the back of his glove.

 

The Landlord's Son: Rewind #1

An Experimental Bout of Zaunite Spunk

Everything shattered into bright blue. He was jolted back quickly, feeling himself move exactly in reverse; he fell down, stood up, shut the door partway, returned the money to the chest, opened the door, shut the door again, and returned to his position in the middle of the room. The hole fixed itself. The landlord's son walked backwards back out the door. He thought he saw fire on the corner of his vision

Then everything started again. He was halfway through pulling the chain, then let it go and glanced to where something had been before. That was new. What the hell was wrong with the Z-Drive?

The landlord's son was pounding on the door again and jolted Ekko back to reality. He'd worry about that later; now was the time to ease the news onto the Landlord's son. What would be the easiest way to do that?

He opened the door, more fluidly avoiding the near punch in the face flawlessly. The landlord's son hesitated, awkwardly, and Ekko wondered if he'd even noticed such smooth action. “Where are your--”

“Not here. No, I don't have rent. Come back later.” (This was purely experimental.)

“What the hell!?”

And Ekko slammed the door in his face, locked the door, and retreated a few feet back. An shocked moment, and the man started screaming again, pounding his fist on the door viciously and vividly describing any horrific way to kill the child hiding inside his house. Classy. Who knew the guy was so creative?

Ekko shrugged and rewound again. As much as it troubled him, he would need to be polite. Nothing a little Zaunite acting couldn't cure.

 

The Landlord's Son; Rewind #2

The Opposite of the First Thing (Or at least, as close it as Ekko can get)

He was back again at the start of this thing and he muttered some curses to himself to get the anger from his system. Here comes the thing he hated doing most... but count it an experiment on his part. For future reference, of course, to know if this guy responded to kindness well. (Who knows?)

He opened the door, forgot about the punch, and was nearly socked in the face again. Whoops.

The same awkward beat, and the same, “Where are your parents?”

“They're not here,” he said, more politely this time.

“Are they?”

(Again with this? What was this guy's deal?)

“They're at work. They usually are.”

“Oh. So, do you have the rent money?”

“I don't, I'm sorry. I can give you half now, and the other half later tonight.”

The anger sparked again in his eyes, and now Ekko noticed the red lines under them. “No. _All_ of it. Now.”

“I'm sorry, I don't have--”

The landlord's son slammed open the door, it broke the wall, and Ekko threw his arms in the air, though more defeated than shocked. “What do you want!? Imaginary money!? I don't have it!” (So much for that polite thing.)

The man shoved Ekko to the side and stormed into the living room. “I want all of it! Everything you have! I know Zaun! I know you hide everything! Money, valuables, Shimmer!”

“Shimmer?” And then it all clicked and he felt like a moron for not noticing it sooner. Of course, the red lines, the mood swings... “Oh, man,” he chuckled, grinning ear to ear and reaching for his dial. “You really shouldn't've said that.”

 

The Landlord's Son, Rewind #3

Third Time's the Charm

He answered the door, dodged the punch gracefully, and leaned against the door with all the arrogance he could muster. The landlord's son was confused more now than ever before. “Hey,” Ekko said. “Looking for that rent money?”

The man hesitated then sniffed. “Yeah.”

“Man, I'd give you half now and tell you to come back later, but it seems like you're not really in a condition to be collecting money.”

This made the rent collector stiffen visibly. “The fuck?”

Ekko rested his head against the door, nonchalantly scratching his neck. “Do you think it's a secret? Red eyes, unbearable mood swings... It's hard to tell the difference between Shimmer withdrawal symptoms and being an asshole.” A pause, then a thoughtful, “Or is it?”

The landlord's son slammed his fist into the door, but with Ekko's weight, the damage from the knob to the wall was minimal. “Shut up,” he snapped, though his voice was quieted. “Do you want everyone to hear?”

Ekko snorted. “I mean, I'd rather your dad hear about it, really. I doubt he'd trust you enough to collect rent money after this, especially since you've been hassling everyone with false charges and shit to cover your Shimmer addiction. I don't think he'd be happy to find out about your terribly planned fraud. It's not even the third yet. It's the twenty-seventh. Nice try, though. Hm, not really.”

The man hesitated, looked each way down the hall to make sure no one could hear before looking at him sternly. “Listen, just give me whatever you have for the rent money, and I'll make sure my dad doesn't kick you out when you miss your payment again.”

(What the hell kind of deal is that?)

“How about I don't give you the money and we actually make our rent payment on time this month?”

The man started again, slamming his fist again into the door, and Ekko tried not to flinch. “Son of a bitch! Do you know what kind of trouble I'm in!? You won't have a place to live if I don't get that money, you understand me? They'll blow this place to kingdom come if they don't get what they want! They know how important this place is to my family.”

“They?”

“The Shimmer dealers.”

“I know that! But which ones, specifically?”

The man glanced around, then answered, very quietly, “A contact through the Chembarons that guard the Ferros' Clan scrapyard.” (Of fucking course.) “They'll burn down the whole building.”

Ekko sighed. He couldn't care less if this asshole was drawn and quartered in the streets, but this was one of the only buildings left in the city his parents could afford to live in. The risk alone was enough to worry him. “How do I know you're not lying to me? Seems like they'd probably just raid the place rather than burn it down.”

The son stammered for a moment and Ekko raised an eyebrow. “Because they can make more money that way. You know. Interest and all that. 'Sides, I wouldn't be asking for help from some... kid.”

Ekko literally just wanted to end this conversation. This wasn't his problem, but the possibility of the barons destroying the building seemed rather plausible. The longer it took for the son to pay back the money, the more money they'd make off the interest. Shit. “Fine. What's the damage?”

“Three thousand.”

“Hell no.”

Ekko grabbed the handle of the door and moved to shut it but the man stepped into block it from closing. “Wait! Please!” Unable to close the door, Ekko was left with little choice but to listen. “You're _that_ kid, right? The one they talk about? The one that always does things right the first time? You've shown those guys the whatfor before, right? What if, you know...? You talk to them for me?”

No, he wasn't some errand boy. He didn't do things for people they could do themselves, or fix the messes they made in their stupidity. He could barely keep track of his own; he was just blessed with the rewind machine currently sitting on the table.

But the only image he could see in his mind was the potentially destroyed apartment building, his parents scrambling to find someplace to live, and if any of the money they'd save up was lost, how heartbroken they would be, even if Ekko had no intention of using that money.

Dammit. There was no choice.

“Fine.” The man's eyes lit up, and Ekko held up a hand. “But we better be on your dad's Nice List for the next foreseeable future, you got me?” The son nodded vigorously, stunned into quietness from the agreement. “But you hold out on your deal, and there'll be real hell to pay.” The son nodded again. “Good. Now, get clean, 'cause I'm only doing this once.”

He shut the door and sighed. This was gonna be fun.

 


	2. Cue the Theme Song; Timesplit Vision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, for no apparent reason, another chapter 50 years later. Weird.

Cue the Theme Song

The Gray was thick today and he debated retreating back inside to avoid the fatal fog. But he could see the sky and that was a well indication that it couldn't be so terrible, not any worse than a dreary day where the rain could reach the people, and so he continued down the cobblestone road towards one of the popular hangouts of the Lost Children.

Though, he didn't make it terribly far before someone screamed, “ _They're_ coming!”

And Ekko sighed.

In the count of five, fire was reigning from the sky and everything was loud and broken and Ekko had since ducked into an alley to avoid being set aflame from the bombs that tore everything apart. There was chaos; people screamed and ran and pushed and shoved to be the first to make it some place safe. Ekko was just willing to bet on luck and the Z-Drive to get himself out alive.

Maniacal laughter echoed between the shattering booms and ear-splitting screams. He pulled the chain of his Z-Drive. Just in case.

“Woo!” cheered a male voice from the ashes. “Now _that's_ a test run!”

He pushed himself through the smoke and nearly tripped over a pile of bricks to get to them. Forget Clan Ferros. These two would be the ones to burn his home to the ground first.

“Of course!” a girl chided back. “Isn't Zaun great!? Well, except for one thing.”

Ekko burst out of the alley, although less graceful than he would have liked. “Jinx! What did I say about blowing up Zaun!?”

“There he is!” Jinx chirped, opening her arms as the boy approached her.

He huffed, stealing a look around him, particularly towards the building where his home was (though it seemed more or less untouched), and taking in the damage dealt to the street he had once been walking peacefully on. The road was destroyed more than any of the buildings, and perhaps that was something to be relieved about, but alas. “Seriously. Take your shit to Piltover. We don't need it here.”

“Oh, Ekko,” she sang, sighing as if he was some sort of naive child. “you don't understand. Piltover is _all_ the way up there and we wanted to test it _now_. You know how it is.”

His eyebrow twitched. “No. No, I don't.”

“C'mon, buddy!” said the weirdly fuzzy-hairy-furry man. (Ziggs, he'd heard. He was such a strange-looking man.) “It's just a small little test. It's not like the road looks any worse than before.”

He couldn't even give them a good death glare; they laughed as if it was nothing. (There was no point in trying this again. Rewinding with Jinx just made the conversation worse and worse; he had no idea how to deal with her and now she had a friend – who at least tried to keep her from killing people, thank above.) “Are you at least done with your rampage?”

“Experiment!” Jinx corrected. “Ziggs says it's an experiment.”

Ziggs grinned; Ekko didn't. “Whatever.” Looking around, he noted no dead bodies, no person to save. Nothing he could do if he rewound would prevent this. He'd just have to deal with it for now. “Speaking of experiment, I've got shit to do.”

“Ooo!” Jinx and Ziggs said at the same time. “Experiment with Ekko?”

Ekko lifted his hands and stepped back. “No, no. You guys are not coming.” Too volatile to bring to the scrapyard. Clan Ferros would hunt him to the end of the Earth if these two caused too much havoc in his name. And God knew what would happen to the apartment building.

Ziggs and Jinx started at the same time, with the same whine, but it was Jinx who spoke. “C'mon, Ekko! You always explode cool things, like time – and the sky, once.”

“I didn't blow up the sky, I blew up – Never mind.” He turned on his heel and started down the street in the wrong direction, but he was committed now and he wouldn't be able to turn around and go back. (Well, he could Rewind, but that required energy and he just wanted this conversation to end.) “The Z-Drive's being weird, so I'm just gonna go run a couple tests and fix it. Nothing is getting blown up.”

Glancing over his shoulder, the duo was far closer than he expected them to be. “Sounds lame,” said Ziggs, but he was grinning anyway. “Maybe you should talk to Heimerdinger about it.”

“Who?”

“Y'know, my traitor-for-a-mentor, Heimerdinger. He's up in Piltover.”

Ekko snorted and started down the road again. Where was he even gonna go from here? “I'm not asking a _Piltie_ for _help_. I'm perfectly capable of fixing my own invention.”

He heard their footsteps stop behind them and he couldn't help but exhale relief when he noticed. Though, too quickly, because Jinx said, “So, where's all your famous tools, time boy?”

He stopped. He groaned. He turned around and admitted defeat. “I'm going to the scrapyard to talk to some guys about some thing that doesn't involve you guys. And _then_ I'm gonna fix the Z-Drive.”

“Must be pretty serious if the Z-Drive comes second for a change,” Jinx hummed, glancing sideways at Ziggs. “And you know who's pretty good at striking fear into the hearts of everyone.” Ekko opened his mouth to talk, but they started singing and dancing until they struck some kind of pose. “Da da da! Ziggs and Jinx! Explosives extraordinares!”

Ekko chortled. “You guys have a theme song?”

“Of course!” Ziggs chirped. “Don't you?”

There was an awkward chuckle, then Ekko stepped backward. “Alright. Well, I appreciate your offer, but I think this might require a more...” He scrambled for a word. “...refined approach.”

“Lame!” The dynamic duo whined, but they didn't seem to press, which was fine. Ziggs continued, “Well, you know who to call when you need a thing to blow up!”

Jinx winked, lifting a hand to wave. “Only for you, Ekko! Show 'em hell.”

He laughed, weakly, awkwardly, and waved back. “Sure thing. Thanks.”

With a bout of laughter and fire, they sprinted off together into what was probably more chaos. He remained in the fire and the wreckage, and all he had to say was, “'Sure thing, thanks?' Are you an idiot?” as he continued down the street, grumbling to himself.

Then he turned around and went down the right way.

... 

TimeSplit Vision

The scrapyard of Clan Ferros was a familiar sight. “So many good memories,” he joked confidently from a dark spot where the only part of him visible was his glowing weapons. He scanned the area best he could, only met by a big empty field of nothing but disposed tech and random garbage. He activated the Drive and left the shadows to locate the Chembarons his landlord's son had been talking about.

They were standing by the gate, two of them. One of them was larger, with far more augmentations than necessary, and the other was a short but stout soldier guy who looked far older than the first. They were yipping to each other about something unimportant like shitty guards did (this was how he and the other Lost Children were able to steal so much from here), and Ekko decided to start with the most forward approach. He walked up to them as confident as he could, and earned their attention near immediately. “Fuck off, kid,” Shortie snapped and Ekko smiled.

“What? I thought you liked having me around.” He stopped a few paces from them and stood his ground. “Or are you afraid of me?”

The large man snorted. “Don't make me laugh.” Even his voice sounded augmented and Ekko wrinkled his nose. “We've got no business with you. Move along.”

“That's the funny thing,” he retorted quickly. “because I have some business with you. Particularly, your Shimmer deal.”

There was a tight silence, then Shortie said, “We don't sell to kids.”

(Is that honestly how it sounded? That was kind of funny and nearly worth a rewind, but he knew he'd have to do it anyway, so there was no point in doing it now.)

“No,” Ekko half-laughed, trying to still seem like he had himself together. “I don't wanna buy any. I'm here about a debt someone owes you. Particularly, the son of the man who owns one of the apartment buildings in the slums.”

This time, the large baron didn't laugh. His eyes narrowed on the boy, who stood his ground best he could. “That has nothing to do with you.”

“It does if you do anything to that building,” he said sternly and Shortie drew a weapon on the corner of his eye.

The baron crossed the distance to Ekko, towering over him by a good few feet. “I said, that deal isn't any of your concern. Now, fuck. Off.”

Ekko opened his mouth to respond, but his voice didn't come first. “Is there a problem?” asked a metallic voice behind him. He hesitated, slowly turning to Camille who stood behind him. (She was here, too, now!?) Her eyes narrowed dangerously at him. “Look who it is: Sundial Brat.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly. “And Metal Legs McGree,” he retaliated. “What a surprise.”

“I could say the same.” She glided passed him, behind the baron and towards the scrapyard. “I'm surprised my barons are Shimmer dealers. I wasn't aware I'd hired such lowly people as guards. Then again, Zaun is always full of such lovely surprises.” She glanced at them sideways. “Are you not paid enough for your work? That you slander the Ferros' name with your misdeeds?”

This was going better than expected.

Shortie hesitated, then started; “We don't know what he's talking about.”

“Do you take me for a fool?” she hissed, eyes narrowing like a hawk on a mouse, and Shortie flinched. “I really hope you are not so stupid, for your sake.” Ekko didn't realise he had been smiling until her attention turned to him and the smirk faltered. “As for you, child, I recommend you don't become involved in such affairs.” Then, begrudgingly, she added, “Not that it will stop you.” And he smiled again.

The baron turned his attention to Ekko again, smirking barely at him. “I know where you live,” he threatened quietly, but Ekko cared very little.

“We'll see about that.”

And he turned the dial.

 

Everything Goes Wrong: Not-A-Rewind #1

What the Hell is Happening?

Everything shattered and turned blue, but nothing moved the way it was supposed to. The world was frozen in place; Camille, Shortie, and the large man, even the Grey. Nothing moved but him and the awareness of his situation made his heart race horrifically.

_Please don't be stuck like this. Please be fixable._

Then it did something new; everything moved _forward_. “Uh, oh.”

It moved quick, quicker than he could comprehend, until everything became a dizzying blur. Ekko shut his eyes and pressed his hands over his ears, the pulling of motion and twisting world making his stomach spin until his balance fell sideways and he collapsed onto the nothingness beneath his feet.

As quickly as it started, it stopped. The spinning feeling was replaced by prickling heat on his skin and the pulling became pushing from a strong gust of wind behind him. He dared open his eyes; a field, the above-world, and a grand mountain and thousands of soldiers and everything on fire. The arid wind scorched as the solar-heated sand beneath the palms of his hands did. The sun burned his skin like fire. Breathing was agony; he choked on particles of sand and death, his throat pulling itself apart when he tried to gasp for air and anything not oxygen came into his lungs.

Burning alive could not have been any different.

A huge tear in the sky revealed a dark and purple world, thousands horrific monsters crawling out of the rip and widening it. Not a familiar place, not a single familiar face, but they were running and screaming and dying bloody deaths as the monsters hunted them down and tore them apart with mandibles and claws and teeth that belonged to nothing on this Earth.

An ear-splitting scream tore through the field and something, something large, reached a single claw as large as the mountain reached out from the void. His focus remained solely on the creature as it's shoulder came forward out of the hole, though just barely, and he nearly saw it's head before one of the monsters leapt at him, teeth and claw outstretched to rip him apart.

The world shattered like a mirror and he was thrown backwards onto his Z-Drive, nearly breaking his back on the thing. He groaned, stealing the moment to gather himself before he leaned up to face again Camille and the chembarons, who stared at him with a great deal confused concern. There was hesitation. Ekko scrambled to his feet, increasing the distance between them and him. Then he turn his heel and sprinted in the other direction. Someone yelled something after him, but he didn't bother to listen.

That wasn't normal. That wasn't supposed to happen.

The Z-Drive sang again that night.

 


	3. Something Familiar Someplace Foreign; Sparks, Sparkles, and Strangers

Something Familiar Someplace Foreign

Ekko had taken apart the Z-Drive and drilled it back together and no unusual issues came forth from it. (Though, now he had a few spare screws afterwards, which was weird but not that weird.) He tested it, at first minimally with only a few seconds, and then increased the rewound time gradually.

Nothing happened. Or, nothing unusual happened.

The vision of the fire and the smoke nor the song that played only at midnight repeated. But, Ekko was certain and knew his invention well enough to know the song and the vision were no mere coincidence. He had debated the theory of a true time machine before, one that could move forward or backward in any considered amount, but the science of such large time manipulations were too unreliable and erratic – even with the added prospect of magic.

However, he knew he was not the only one to experiment and alter the fabric of time and simultaneously be renown for it. Of course, he'd hear from the other Lost Children repeatedly of the Chronokeeper, a man who once appeared in Piltover and built an engine of a kind that beat Zaun out in the Festival of Flight.

(Screw that! Anyone who bitched at him about the Z-Drive would get an earful regarding the Chronopropeller on Tailwind.)

But there was a purpose for the mention of thought; any man with regard for the theory of time must have some sort of idea. With all of Ekko's experiments and rebuilds, he was still at a loss for the unusual new habits of the Z-Drive. (Of course, whether or not the vision he'd seen was, at most basic terms, “real” remained to be seen but was something so unusual and jarring that it felt impossible to ignore.)

He fought with himself for a while about the idea of going up, to the above-world where the City of Progress struted around like a rich man before an audience of pretty women. Like hell. He could figure this out himself.

(Spoiler alert; after two more midnight songs and a haunting dream of the vision, he decided to go up at last.)

Getting onto the elevator felt awkward, standing between a Piltie and a girl who could have belonged to either city. (A Zaunite, a Piltie, and a girl walk into an elevator and it's a peaceful ride up. Great joke.) It was quiet and smooth and he tried not to be aware of the Piltie behind him, though he was certain the man was silently cursing the room Ekko's Z-Drive was taking up.

As they reached near the top, Ekko's mind was taken to the sight beyond the glass of the iron and grey city down below. Green reflections of bronze pipes twinkled back up at him from even the slums and he would've smiled if he felt well enough to do so.

The glass doors opened to a bright and gold city and Ekko squinted in it's awkward shininess. Where were the shadow alleys, the smoke and mist that wove around buildings and market spots? Where was the rust and metal and the tangy smell of forges and weird chemicals? Where were the unique inventions, the unusual specimen, the children half-dressed and wrecking havoc and building things and sitting on the ground with crossed legs and chocolate stains on their mouths who laughed too loud and hit too hard?

These kids were clean and stood obediently beside their mothers. Inventions were one and the same, all gold and shiny bronze and made of the same store-bought things, the same mass-factory-produced pieces built in the Zaun Factorywood. These people looked the same, stripped of individuality and freedom and identity and replaced with the same old things everyone else had.

Piltover was a clean and rigid city, and no amount of “Progress” would ever change the clean, bland nothingness that was disgustingly referred to as a culture.

Ekko _hated_ Piltover.

Ding. The glass doors opened and both the girl and the Piltie stepped out before him. He barely noticed his own hesitation, a brief moment to compare the Piltover he saw here to the few times in his memory: when he came after Vi, when he came after Jinx, and when he came after the whistling man. Each time came up empty and his heart sank in the reminder that Piltover was just a place he kept losing things. This time, it would probably be his mind. Next, his freedom.

He stepped out into the open air and was blasted by a cold breeze. He wrapped his arms around himself and rubbed his biceps with his hands. He'd forgotten how cold it was in Piltover. The way the cliffs wrapped around Zaun and the settling of smog and smoke kept Zaun warm and humid; the open sky just made everything cold and dry.

Ekko dropped his arms and scanned the city for anything familiar, but everything looked all the same and it was hard to pull a familiar grain of sand from a desert. Sucking in another cold lungful of air, he set off forward into the city, reluctantly.

Admittedly, he was a mere wanderer in his current goal; the few in Piltover who understood his work were untrustworthy and those untrustworthy in Zaun were the few who understood his work. Jayce, Viktor, names he crossed off a list before he even entered the elevator. No, he had a reason for coming up to Piltover and it came to him in a strange morning memory; the traitor-for-a-mentor, Heimerdinger, mentioned previously by Jinx's friend, Ziggs, but without the weird furry hexplosives engineer for direction, Ekko was lost in the gold and shiny.

As he wandered, the eyes of Pilties who watched his movement crawled along his skin like bugs and he mentally flicked each of them off, though there was nothing he could do about the squint in his eyes because the sun was so damn bright up here and he probably looked as pissed off as he was. Between his saltiness, glowing time machine, and pretty much everything else about him, he stood out like a chermbaron among the masses.

There's a truth here about Ekko in Piltover; he looked pissed and he walked tough, but his heart was slamming against his chest and his throat was tight.

Speaking of sticking out, something familiar finally came forth – though not what Ekko was really looking for, but he wouldn't deny that he felt better to see bright pink amongst the sameness. She didn't look as happy as him, but a part of him was secretly hoping she was just hiding her feelings like he was. (Deep down, he didn't think she was.)

She was sitting at outdoor cafe table, holding a very tiny coffee cup in very large hextech fingers and it looked so weird to see Vi in an outfit (albeit disheveled) holding something so small, delicately like she didn't want to break it. (Break something, Vi! It's your whole thing! What has Caitlyn done to you?) She looked like she was waiting. Probably for the sheriff.

Vi had already seen him from a long ways away and he knew she was hoping he wouldn't come up to her but he couldn't avoid her, even if he wanted to. Big sister Vi used to mean safety and he hoped that still stood. As he moved closer, she decided to acknowledge him. She was expecting a repeat of the same conversation they'd have over and over and over again. He pulled the chain but didn't expect to need a rewind. (He wanted to avoid using it at all if he could.)

“Hey,” he started awkwardly.

She raised an eyebrow. “Sup, kiddo?”

Ekko didn't really need Vi anymore, not in the way that he used to. She was the big sister, she was a friend. She was muscles and fists and blood; he was brains and gadgets and sweat. Between the two of them and Jinx and the rest of the Lost Children, he always thought they made a good team; she clearly begged to differ. “Not much,” he strained to say. “What's up with you?”

He'd rather be talking to a brick wall. Neither of them clearly wanted to have this conversation; there was nothing to say. It was an awkward stage of him waiting for her to say something she'd never say and he trying to have a conversation without trying to say he wanted her to say it even though she knew that was what he wanted to hear. He hated this.

“Same old, same old,” she replied casually. She was better at this than he was. “What're you doing in Piltover?”

“I'm looking for someone.”

“Haven't heard _that_ one before.”

“Ha ha.” It was amazing how often Ekko got caught in loops without the aid of the Z-Drive. “I'm just looking for a dude name Heimerdinger.” Vi looked surprised and Ekko was happy enough that his search actually seemed innocent for once.

“You came all the way up here to see Heimerdinger? Oh, is he the guy you picked to be your mentor or something?”

“What? No!” She laughed. Was she trying to joke with him? “I'm not-- No, you're trying to get me started, aren't you?”

Vi was smiling. Ekko forgot that his heart had been racing a second ago. “Yeah, maybe. It's no fun if you're not all riled up. You just make it so easy.”

Ekko huffed, vaguely aware of how his lips were pulling upwards at the corners and he was okay with that. She didn't bother with another word; just pointed a hextech finger in the direction of a bunch of buildings. They all looked the same and yet she seemed to assume he would know which one she was pointing at. “What?”

“Use your brain, genius. Don't tell me you've gone stupid.”

He finally decided to cast aside the fog of information that _everything_ in Piltover looked the same and actually _tried_ to find difference between the buildings. Ah, the one with Heimerdinger's name on it. Yup. That would be the one.

“Oh. Duh.”

Ekko didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay and talk to her; ask her questions, understand what she was thinking, just because he missed her so much and he tried to ignore it and now that he saw her, he wanted to stay and just chat and--

“Guess I'll see you around,” he said.

“Sure thing. Stay frosty, shortstack.”

He tore himself away. He tried to smile, it didn't work. It crossed his mind to rewind and try again, just to talk with her some more, the way he had always used the Z-Drive before, but there was nothing to be said.

He had something important, anyway.

...

Sparks, Sparkles, and Strangers

Ekko wasn't sure what he had walked into when he opened the door and let it shut behind him. Another strangely fuzzy, short man and a girl with the longest hair he'd ever seen. They're faces were inches from each other and he feared he'd walked in on something private until he realised the man was trying to increase distance between them and she didn't know what personal space was.

“Oh, wow! You're really cute!” she yelled.

“Hm, yes,” the man said. “but, you see, I am very busy, and I must get back to work.”

“Okay! What're you working on?”

“A vertical high velocity kinetic conversion device.”

“A what?”

Ekko stole this moment to chime in. “A jump pad?”

Both strangers turned their heads to him and he waved. There was a moment of silence before the man pushed his glasses up his nose. “Well, yes, essentially.” Yeah, looking around now, Ekko assumed that this guy couldn't reach most top shelves. He also assumed this guy was Heimerdinger. Every inventor had to have a stupid complex name for everything they built just to show off to everyone how smart they were.

The girl, on the other hand, was completely knew. Her aforementioned hair looked like it defied physics – both for the way it didn't look horribly tangled and also that it was defying physics right now by floating. Her eyes went from him to his Z-Drive and back, and then her curious expression lit up. “Ah! It's you! You're so cute! Not as cute as Ezreal, but still!”

He attempted a double take to her words, because that brought up so many more questions than he wanted to admit. (He stuck to thing he actually recognised.) “What!? No way! Don't compare me to that loser.”

She bounced off the table and sprinted up to him – she barely came up to his chin. “You know Ezreal!? Do you think I could meet him? I'm Zoe, by the way. Do you think he knows who I am? Because I know who he is. I mean, obviously. But like-- Oh!” She turned to Heimerdinger and balled her fists excitedly. “This is who I was looking for! Thank you!” She whipped around again. “What's your name?”

Ekko already had a headache. Why was this happening? What was going on? He looked to Heimerdinger for help, but the inventor looked just as lost. Looked like this was a new day for everybody. Time to play it cool. He pulled the chain.

“My name's Ekko,” he started carefully. “I'm here to see--”

“Oh, what's this!?” Zoe's small fingernail tapped against the glass of the Z-Drive and Ekko sighed.

“That's my Z-Drive. It's a long story. I really need to talk to--”

“Is this the thing that can rewind time?”

Oh, was this how she knew him? Was she a kid looking for guidance on the long journey of invention? That would explain a lot. He found significant more patience for her than before. “Yeah. I was hoping that--”

“It's so sparkly and bright! But, you know, everything could use more sparkles.”

“Kay, I need to talk to--”

“I could put more sparkles on it for you if you like!”

“Him!” Ekko jabbed a finger at Heimerdinger. “I need to talk to him. Please?”

Zoe's enthusiasm wasn't deterred at all. She took a step back and folded her hands behind her back. “Oh! Yeah!”

Ekko smiled at her thankfully then started awkwardly towards Heimerdinger, who looked just as confused and done with the day as Ekko was. “I need your help. With the Z-Drive.”

Heimerdinger sighed, long and defeated. “I'll make some tea.”

 


End file.
